


H is for Havoc

by MariaPriest



Series: Stargate Drabbles' Alphabet Challenge [8]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaPriest/pseuds/MariaPriest
Summary: Daniel touches something and it has dire consequences for both him and Jack.





	H is for Havoc

**Author's Note:**

> Occurs sometime between "Divide and Conquer" and "Meridian."  
> j = Jack's thoughts and d = Daniel's thoughts if not obvious from context.

Uncharacteristically, Teal'c' was the first to speak as SG-1 slowly walked along the perimeter of the gigantic Ancient building. “This structure is most ... impressive,” he said, the hushed tone indicating his awe.

Jack O'Neill whistled softly in agreement and at Teal'c's typical understatement. “Looks like Mad King Ludwig hired an architect on acid to build _this_ castle. This is ... “ He paused, at a loss for words.

“Unbelievably, utterly beautiful beyond description, Jack?” Daniel Jackson offered.

“Yeah, that works.”

“The footage certainly didn't do this justice,” Samantha Carter whispered reverently. She made a mental note to look into improving the imaging capabilities of the cameras mounted on the UAV.

“Funny you should use that word, Sam,” Daniel said with a smile in his voice.

“What word? Justice?”

“Yes.” Excited, Daniel flew into his fast-talking didactic mode. “The Ancient writing above the main entry translates to _justitatum_ , which is _justitia_ in Latin and justice in English. This means justice in the legal _and_ moral sense, as opposed to _aequitas_ , which is Latin for -”

O'Neill had felt something akin to a popping whir go off in his head as soon as he heard the linguist say, “ _Justitatum_.” Abruptly and inexplicably, he became irritable, and a sense of foreboding began to build in him. “Let's save the nuances of really old, dead languages for another time, Daniel, shall we? We came, we saw, and now let's get on with the conquering so we can get outta here.”

Daniel frowned at O'Neill's sudden testiness. “It's the differences that could tell us what this building probably is , Jack.”

“You mean that this is probably a courthouse, not a muliplex movie theater? I _get_ it, Daniel. And why didn't you tell us this when you _first_ saw that Ancient chicken scratch?”

“Sorry, Jack, but I was struck speechless like everybody else.”

Carter looked mystified at the unusually abrasive sarcasm that sharpened her CO's words. On the other hand, Teal'c simply raised an eyebrow and said, “O'Neill, I sense something is causing you to experience illness of your ease.”

Teal'c's odd choice of words, which Jack knew to be intentional, partially defused his anxiety. “Yeah, well, all of a sudden this place has started creeping me out. I mean, what do know of Ancients' laws and justice? Maybe they practiced something like old Piso did. Did you see anything about _truth_ anywhere, Daniel?”

Both Daniel and Carter's eyes opened wide in surprise at O'Neill's knowing anything about Piso and the legally right but morally wrong justice he meted out centuries ago. “We won't know unless we study this, Jack. Learning from others' mistakes is just as valuable as learning from their successes, so let’s take a chance.”

O'Neill knew Daniel was right, but that didn't mean he had to like going in there. After several seconds, he said grudgingly, “Okay, fine, but _nobody_ ” - he stared and pointed straight at the ever-enthusiastic archeologist - ”touches _anything_.”

“Yes, Jack.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will comply with your wish.”

O'Neill nodded and shooed them toward the main entrance. His feeling of “ill-ease” grew with every step.

HHHH

While Jackson worked on figuring out how to open the door, O'Neill asked, “Major, care to guess why this ... palace is still in good shape? Up to now, everything Ancient we've run across has been in need of an extreme makeover.”

Carter had been wondering about this already and had formed a hypothesis after analyzing her instruments' readings. “The castle seems to be made from what is likely indigenous rock, which has some remarkable characteristics, unlike anything on Earth - or anywhere else we've come across for that matter. It's somewhat similar to trinium.”

O'Neill unconsciously rubbed his right upper arm, as if the long-healed wound from the Salish arrow still hurt. “That's pretty strong, right?”

"Yes, sir,” she replied enthusiastically. “The geologists will have a field day with this. The applications --”

"Carter,” O'Neill snapped. And almost regretted the tone. This place was getting under his skin enough, without Carter prattling on about applications.

"Yes, sir,” she said, now sounding more military than scientist. “Sorry, sir. Um, this rock has probably withstood all erosive forces for a very long time. _And_ it has naquadah in it.”

"Naquadah? That is interesting,” said Teal'c.

"Yeah, I know! Without studying this in the lab, I can't tell if the naquadah is naturally occurring or if it's been added. If the latter is the case, can you imagine what it took to get the naquadah into the rock?”

"No, I cannot.”

O'Neill snorted at Teal'c's deadpan response to Carter's obviously rhetorical question. It shut up Carter long enough for him to say, “So this has probably stood for a _bunch_ of centuries.”

By now, Sam had tempered her excitement a bit and caught her breath. “I'm thinking a bunch of _millennia_ , sir.”

"Got it!” Daniel shouted triumphantly before the conversation on Ancient construction materials and techniques could go further. “I know how to get in.”

O'Neill sighed and said in mock excitement, “Do tell! My breath is bated from the wait.”

Daniel scowled at Jack, who ignored the visual admonishment. The archeologist cleared his throat. “The Ancient symbols on these seven tiles,” Daniel began, indicating one by one the ornate squares running along the left side of the entry door, “are the four classical elements of earth, water, fire, and air, plus aether, heart, and soul. The writing on the other side tells us the order in which they should be activated. Just like a Stargate address,” he concluded. When Daniel reached for the earth tile, O'Neill stopped him and insisted he open the door himself.

A miffed and disappointed Daniel Jackson threw his arms up in surrender and stepped aside. “This one first,” he said while pointing to the square he'd almost triggered.

Jack touched the tiles in the order Daniel specified. From the first contact, he felt very subtle electrical hums travel up his arm and stop at the back of his head. A warning bell deep inside him went off, but making only a vague impression. Nevertheless, he continued on, as if he had to. By the time he had touched the sixth tile, the realization hit him that he seemed to know the correct sequence of pressing the tiles without Daniel's instructions. The foreboding grew. He considered stopping and telling SG-1 his concerns. 

But Jack couldn't speak. Some force was driving him to silence, keeping him from aborting the mission, and to opening the door. His hand wavered over the seventh tile - soul. Fear reared up within him.

Daniel looked closely at his friend and thought Jack seemed a little pale. “Jack, are you okay?”

Teal'c and Carter, hearing the concern in Daniel's voice, paid closer attention to the colonel. His jaw was working overtime, and sweat now beaded on his upper lip.

"O'Neill, are you unwell?”

Teal'c's rumbled question broke the spell. Jack sputtered out a cough. “No, yeah, just fine, T. Just swallowed wrong.” A flash of dizziness came and went as he felt his brain twirl for a brief moment. Then he felt normal . . . sort of. Any misgivings he had apparently had withered away to almost nothing. “Okay, let's get this over with.” He glanced at Daniel.

Doubt and worry painted Daniel's face. O'Neill once again questioned whether he should say anything about his intermittent inability to talk or the creepy-crawly feelings he got when he touched the tiles or his own doubt about the wisdom of continuing this mission. But he was feeling fine at the moment.

Through no will of his own, he said nothing and continued.

O'Neill checked to be sure everyone was in position to the sides of the entrance. He, Carter, and Teal'c readied their weapons simultaneously, while Daniel clutched his notebook of Ancient knowledge. Jack touched the seventh tile.

The door parted in the middle and swung open into the foyer. They heard and smelled a rush of surprisingly fresh air flow out of the structure. When nothing untoward happened, O'Neill quipped quietly, “Let's go find the wizard, shall we?”

SG-1 entered the building in standard formation, with O'Neill in the lead. As they passed through the foyer unchallenged into a magnificent rotunda, both areas brightened from unseen light sources. Carter muttered, “Wonder what the power source is?”

"I'm thinking nobody's home, Jack,” Daniel said after ten minutes of cursory checks of the rooms off the rotunda. “Somebody would be by now if there were.”

"I agree with Daniel, Colonel. I don't think we'll meet the wizard or the wicked witch today, sir.”

Jack's mouth twitched with mirth at Carter's comment. He always enjoyed it when one of them joined him in making Oz references. “Okay, here's the plan. Carter, you and Teal'c do a recon of the rest of this floor. Daniel and I'll stay here and take a closer look at these rooms. Stay alert and call in every 15 minutes.”

Carter and Teal'c nodded and left to explore the palace.

Daniel, immediately walking to the large room to the left of the foyer, said, “Let's start here.” He pointed to some Ancient writing about the entryway. “See, Jack? _Veritatum_. Ancient for truth.”

"Okeyley-dokeley, we've got truth and justice. Any scribbles about the American way?”

Even the reference to Superman he made to amuse himself by annoying Daniel didn't stop Jack from prickling at the idea that “truth” merited only a tiny portion of the humongous castle named “Justice.”

"Jack, can't you be serious just one time?” Daniel huffed and rolled his eyes. He headed for the center of the triangular-shaped room where an obelisk in the center of four raised circular platforms rose almost to touch the high vaulted ceiling. In moments, he had dropped his pack and was lost in translating the writing, Jack's needling remarks already forgotten.

Something about the obelisk made O'Neill's brain frizzle and shift gears. He stared at it, unable to move or even break visual contact. All he was certain of was that neither one of them should get close to it, that it was malfunctioning. It was only with intense effort that he was able to turn away. He shook his head to settle down the somersaults in his brain, a totally futile action, then strode toward Daniel, taking care to look only at the enthralled scientist.

The instant Jack stepped on the platform, a baseball-sized orb of stunning opalescent blue-green emerged from the side of the structure Daniel was examining. “Whoa!” Jack mouthed, as the orb quickly became transparent and crackled softly with visible, off-white strands of what he guessed to be energy.

Daniel's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and his mouth opened with unexpressed awe. Unable to deny his nature, he reached out for it. He grinned at the tingling he felt as he got closer and how it seemed to pull him in.

Inexplicably, O'Neill knew that Daniel's mind, and very soon his body, would be lost forever if he touched the orb without someone else touching the damned thing at the same time.

He also knew he couldn't reach the orb in time.

Jack tried to shout a warning but he couldn't seem to get the words out of his increasingly sputtering, jittery brain and to his vocal cords.

He was tempted to fire the P-90 to destroy the orb but with Daniel so close to it, he feared he'd hit him in the process. Plus with his brain doing weird things, he didn't trust his ability to even aim in the right direction. His only hope was to push Jackson away. So he secured the submachine gun against his chest and reached for Daniel with his left hand as he rapidly covered the few paces separating them. His fingertips contacted his friend at the same moment Daniel's caressed the orb.

Both men's mouths opened as widely as they could as multitude of sky-colored strings of energy erupted around Daniel's head and a few around the rest of his rigid body. All of the strands quickly gathered at the point of Jack's contact with Daniel, then traveled through his hand and arm to encircle his head. Soon, most of the blue tangles disappeared into his head.

For at least 15 seconds, they remained motionless, not breathing. Not aware.

Then Jack went flying backwards, only to stop when he hit the doorway's edge. His head snapped back but didn't impact anything solid, the residual blue energy acting like a cushioned helmet. He slid down a few feet to end up sitting on the floor.

Daniel went completely limp and on the way down, banged his head on the orb, which was now a solid mustard-yellow color.

HHHH

When awareness returned to Jack, it was at the speed of light, bringing with it the knowledge he was in pure, unadulterated, searing agony. Plus worse: he was no longer alone inside his head.

Daniel had joined him.

And it was a Daniel in full panic mode, with multiple trains of thought coursing and jumping and pulling and pushing and searching and careening as undercurrents to the dominance of fear. Jack was able to pick up only snatches.

d _What the hell was that?!_

In a vain attempt to ease the overstimulation in his head, Jack squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that they began to water. A strangled shriek made it to his lips as Daniel essentially, though unintentionally, vandalized his brain. He had to protect himself or he and Daniel would both be lost. He had to herd Daniel to a space where he could feel safe and secure. Only then might Daniel stop the assault on Jack's mind and maybe “listen” to his host.

_O God, what's happening? Where am I? Jack's gonna **kill** me for touching that ... device ... could be an Ancient . . ._

Jack had no idea if he could make it work, but he began throwing up barriers in an effort to contain Daniel's mind. But there was so much, and it was all so amazing ... Daniel's thoughts and strong emotions were overpowering him. In everyday exposure to the workings of Daniel's brain, Jack at times would find himself going cross-eyed with Daniel's rapid-fire speech fueled by enthusiasm, but this was supersonic in comparison. Jack felt himself floundering. 

_Not depository of knowledge but seeker of ... truth ... what is truth ... can't breathe! ..._

Daniel's swell of panic in the face of apparent suffocation halted Jack's attempt to dig deeper to find both the energy and the knowledge to corral Daniel. Instead, he thought out to Daniel in a gentle singsong of _You can breathe_ over and over. To himself, he acknowledged it was pretty damned lame but better than nothing. Soon he was rewarded with a somewhat calmer Daniel.

Jackson took a moment to “look” around. _Wow ... fascinating ... so many paths to take ... secrets ... hidden ... so many dark spaces here ... open 'em ... new experiences ..._ Thinking the orb had downloaded a very small portion of Ancient knowledge, probably the equivalent of law books and trial transcripts, into his brain, he decided to explore.

It was O'Neill's turn to panic as Daniel worked tested the compartments, his vaults of memories and emotions he had hidden away for self-protection. _Dammit, Daniel! Back the fuck off!_

The voice warning Jackson to stay away barely registered on his consciousness; it was easy to ignore. No way was he going to let this opportunity for gaining more knowledge pass him by. His eagerness grew in leaps and bounds. _Calm down! ... knowledge ... concentrate ... stay ..._

Jack moaned, the agony rising even higher as Daniel continued to dig into his mind. It reminded him of the time that nasty snake of Hathor's tried to conquer him, but this was different. This was Daniel, and despite the pain he was inflicting, there was nothing malicious or evil about it.

Suddenly, Daniel breached a compartment wall and barged in, hoping to find something that would give him confirmation of his supposition that this was a mini-respository. Then: _Painpainpainpain ... humilitating ... clamps on ... why would anyone put clamps on ... oh, my GOD!_ He sobbed as he experienced the raw, burning pain of torture at the hands of an Iraqi soldier.

 _DANIEL!_ Jack yelled at his hitchhiker. He moved to grasp his head between his hands, but they couldn't actually touch it; the aura of energy strings prevented that. Crippling nausea and vertigo rolled through him while he fought the pain that escalated even more because of Daniel's realization of where his mind was and the release of that specific horrific memory and so many more. He collapsed to one side and retched.

 _JACK!_ Daniel's thoughts became disjointed and intensely harsh, filled with shame, panic, and self-recrimination now that he knew where he was and what he had accessed. These strong, negative emotions let slip something like a horde of berserkers intent on pillaging and plundering.

 _O sweet ... fuck **me**!_ Jack thought as his body went into hard, spastic twists that taxed every muscle and joint to its limit. He lost bladder control as well. In too much electric-dagger misery to think about that indignity, he began shedding rivers of tears to add to the drenching sweat.

Unable to contain verbalizing his misery any longer, O'Neill let out a howl that he figured would make a banshee ashamed of her keening.

One tiny corner of his mind laughed at that thought. How appropriate to think of banshees lamenting the approaching death of a member of one of the five great Gaelic families as he rushed toward his demise.

And Daniel's. That was unacceptable in the extreme.

So he tried harder.

HHHH

Teal'c had just finished asking Carter why it had remained dark for their explorations when O'Neill's blood-curdling screech echoed its way throughout the palace. Teal'c heard it before Carter did and took off for its source, Carter close on his heels.

The Jaffa arrived at the Veritatum several seconds ahead of Carter. The first thing he saw was O'Neill flat on his back, head encased in blue sparks, his body writhing. Immediately his eyes sought Daniel Jackson and found him on the platform, an unmoving heap. He chose to check on O'Neill.

Carter arrived and stopped to take in the situation. Teal'c waved her over to Daniel and said, “I believe DanielJackson requires your expertise more than O'Neill does at this moment.”

She cast a worried glance at the colonel, so obviously in pain but moving, and ran for Daniel. Skidding to a halt beside him, she knelt and began her assessment.

Teal'c approached Jack with some hesitation. As he drew closer, he could see tears streaming from his friend's tightly closed eyes. There was no doubt that O'Neill was in a great amount of pain. He placed his staff weapon on the floor but still within reach should he need it quickly. Squatting, he reached for his friend and said soothingly, “It is I. How may -” O'Neill's eyes snapping open stopped him in mid-sentence and mid-reach.

Jack looked directly at the large, strong hand close - too close - to him. One part of him cried out for the touch and the warmth, strength, and reassurance that would come with it, but another part, buried deep, knew any contact would be catastrophic. “No touch!” he managed to rasp out. Once assured the hand remained still, he shifted his blurry gaze to look directly into Teal'c's worried eyes.

Now Teal'c's eyes opened wide at what he saw: instead of white, the sclerae of O'Neill's eyes were a very familiar shade of blue. A millisecond later, he knew why. He fell backwards to plop on the floor. “DanielJackson,” he whispered with perplexed alarm. Though he found the sight and its implications quite unnerving, he couldn't bring himself to look away or move.

In the meantime, Sam had found that Daniel had a weak carotid pulse, virtually translucent skin, shallow respirations, and an impressive goose egg on his forehead at the hairline. After she had assured herself there was no obvious problem with his cervical spine, she gently repositioned his head so she could better perform a pupil check. She pulled up an eyelid and gasped loudly at what she didn't see: the beautiful blue of his irises. His eyes were stark white except for the black pupils.

She teetered at the discovery and promptly sat back on her heels to spare herself a fall. “Oh, my God,” she said softly, too shocked and numb to gather up any steam to shout.

Teal'c heard the hushed declaration from SG-1's field medic even over the grunts and mewlings coming from O'Neill. “MajorCarter, something is wrong with O'Neill's eyes. What is the condition of DanielJackson's eyes?” he asked with a sense of urgency.

Carter instantly formed a hypothesis. “Are the colonel's now blue like Daniel's?” she shouted over her shoulder.

"Yes.”

O’Neill mentally sighed with relief that the two of them had already figured out what happened. Not how, but he was sure that would come soon enough.

"I know this sounds impossible, but I think Daniel's mind is in Colonel O'Neill.”

"I concur. This raises the question of how we may return it to its rightful place.”

Daniel chose that moment to batter Jack with non-corporeal fists in an attempt to break out of an existence that had turned nightmarish with remembered torture. Jack shrieked again, not only from pain but from the memories of those shitty-beyond-description four months, and his body went stiff. “I ... can ... fix.”

Immediately, Teal'c stood. “I will assist you, O'Neill.”

"NO!”

Daniel “heard” the shout, recognized Jack in it, knew Jack had to be in this opened pit, no thanks to him, forced to endure the horrors again. Daniel renewed his efforts to escape, clawing and ripping and kicking. He wouldn't allow Jack to relive this any longer. As he tried to ignore the pain, degradation, and torture, he egged himself on with a mantra: _Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout . . ._

Again Jack screeched but was able to avoid the rigor. He smiled weakly to himself that he was finally getting the hang of this sharing thing, that he had the skills to control the situation somewhat. Where the hell they were coming from was still a mystery to him, and so unimportant at the moment. _Danny, it's okay. I'm okay_ , he assured his friend. Aloud, he said, “No touch ... must do ... alone.” He took a deep breath. “Order.”

After just the slightest hesitation, Teal'c nodded.

_Daniel, I'm going to get you home. You're safe here, though. Trust me._

Despite the soothing, reassuring touch to Jack's thoughts, Daniel was so guilt-ridden because of his prying into Jack's well-guarded privacy that he tried even harder to leave, though unaware he was still assaulting Jack's mind.

O'Neill realized he finally had enough control to move with some purpose, though fine motor movement was out of the question. He flipped onto his belly, away from Teal'c to avoid accidentally touching him. The tac vest gave him some cushion from the P-90, but he still felt a fair amount of additional discomfort. That was insignificant to what Daniel was doing to his nervous system.

"Away,” he said to Teal'c. As soon as the worried Jaffa took three paces back, Jack turned until his head was aimed for Daniel's body and the platform. He started to crawl to the obelisk, contorting his spasming body to inch forward.

Progress was painstakingly slow. He found it difficult to find purchase on the slick floor. Complicating matters, O'Neill had to stop every few centimeters to deal with a flare-up from Daniel. Sometimes he would grunt, sometimes mutter an “argh,” sometimes wail. He'd take a few deep breaths then resume his approach. This made those nine days in the desert after his parachuting mishap seem like a cake walk.

Teal'c stayed at O'Neill's side, albeit several feet away. His face showed both his customary stoicism and the foreign helplessness. Carter, eyes glistening with unshed tears, had placed Daniel in recovery position and now held his unresponsive hand in one of hers, while the other kept track of his carotid pulse.

That pulse was becoming weaker and slower. This knowledge she kept to herself. The colonel was under enough pressure as it was; he didn't need to know Daniel was dying. He probably already knew that. She guessed he was dying as well, and he probably knew that, too.

Eventually, Jack got to the platform. Though it was only about six inches high, to him it seemed like Everest. In a blizzard. Covered with rusty spikes. With him naked and mortally wounded.

This was just too damn hard.

He was a soldier, expendable, sure to be dead within the next few minutes. Part of the deal when he signed up.

Then he reminded himself that Daniel hadn't signed up. And to Jack, Daniel certainly was _not_ expendable. Daniel was a civilian and one of two national treasures he had the honor and privilege to serve with. And one of the best friends he'd ever had or was ever likely to have. He _had_ to finish this before Daniel's time ran out.

Suddenly, the platform seemed more like Mount McKinley. _Almost there, Danny. Hang on._ Jack cried softly when he realized there was nothing coming out of Daniel's brilliant mind.

Jackson had simply shut down all thoughts for a few moments to gather the strength he needed to get out of this compartment of hellacious memories in which he seemed to have become mired. He launched an all-out battle to spare Jack and himself from any further torment. He whimpered once he felt the exhaustion that was overtaking him.

Jack's cries turned to sobs, and his body seized from the assault. They would both be goners in scant minutes if he didn't get his butt moving.

Teal'c moved toward O'Neill. Carter bellowed, “NO!” in a perfect mimic of the colonel's command tone, instantly stopping Teal'c in his tracks. He took two steps back and nodded to Carter, his gratitude for the reminder shining through teary eyes.

Something - perhaps instinct, or knowledge of his friend, or maybe even that freakin' orb-told Jack to try music. He started silently singing an Abydonian lullaby Daniel had taught him after the birth of Shau'ri's son, just in case they ever found the infant.

Daniel calmed in seconds but it seemed like a few eons to Jack. Next thing he knew, the seizure stopped but Daniel was too quiet. There was little more than a bluish buzz now, instead of the bright, intricate mind.

 _Dammit!_ he screamed to himself in fear that Daniel now had only seconds of life left. Jack hauled himself onto the platform with a resounding grunt. His head now felt drawn to Daniel's body. Unable to speak, he used his eyes to tell Carter to move out of the danger zone surrounding him and Daniel.

She complied immediately and moved off the dais. Both she and Teal'c stared in terrified wonder at the now wildly fluctuating, electrified, paling blue aura around O'Neill's head.

Jack's energy level was kissing zero but he wouldn't and couldn't give up. With nothing below his waist working any longer, he now propelled himself using only his wet hands.

Finally he was more or less equidistant between Daniel and the orb. With a feeble attempt at a deep breath while flat on his abdomen, he strained to touch the orb with one hand and Daniel with the other at the same time. If timing was off by a millisecond . . .

Subconsciously, Jack's mind covered itself for the transfer, automatically weaving a protective cloak around itself. This sucked up the last of his energy and all conscious control. His hands seemed to take on a mind of their own, acting in perfect concert to touch the orb and Daniel's fingertips simultaneously. He head snapped back and his mouth opened.

Carter flinched at the sight of their leader's Adam's apple bobbing furiously but emitting no sound.

The orb became translucent again, this time with a light gray tint. The aura around O'Neill's head quickly became thickly populated with numerous sparkling tangles. They gathered into a tight sheath, the exact color of Daniel's eyes, only less rich, around Jack's arm. The sheath then oozed down until it passed from Jack's hand to Daniel's.

Once there, the sheath picked up speed, as if it were in a rush to get home, and made straight for the archeologist's head. It unfolded around his face and hair. A few strands strayed to take positions elsewhere. A moment later, all of the blue strings entered his body.

The orb, now a semi-transparent brown, vanished into the obelisk and slowly changed color until it matched the obelisk. There were no indications that it even existed.

Jack's head fell forward and hit the hard platform before Teal'c could reach him.

Both Teal'c and Carter heard the crunch of bone. Carter grimaced. They stood still, paralyzed by indecision, within a foot of their unresponsive teammates.

Teal'c swallowed hard and asked quietly, “MajorCarter, do you believe it is safe to touch them now?”

Sam shrugged her shoulders, the scientist in her hating that she couldn't even make an educated guess. “I don't have a clue, Teal'c. But I don't see that we have a choice.” She knelt by Daniel again.

Teal'c carefully placed his commander on his back. O'Neill's nose was bloody and misshapen. The scar in his left eyebrow was bloody as well. Almost immediately, he noticed the man wasn't breathing. He repositioned his head and rechecked for breathing as well as a pulse.

Nothing.

"MajorCarter, O'Neill does not draw breath nor does his heart beat. I will start resuscitation measures.” Teal'c gave Jack two full breaths without pinching his friend's injured nose closed, unclipped the P-90 from its hanger, and opened O'Neill's vest. He began compressions, using only one hand as he feared in his rush of adrenaline two would likely cave in his friend's chest.

Sam had just determined that Daniel, too, was in full arrest. “Teal'c, on your own! Daniel's out as well,” she said with false calm as she positioned her friend's head for rescue breaths. She pushed away the morbid thought that she would lose both of them, that the double loss would crush her spirit irreparably. She called on the eternal optimism of her commanding officer, who always pushed her to see Plan B or Plan C, or even Plan D.

 _We **will** be successful_ , she thought. She simply didn't know how they could do it this time.

At two minutes into their efforts, Teal'c called a halt for the reassessment of their teammates. His command, sounding roughly cold and clinical to an outsider, conveyed worry, concern, fear, desperation, and hope to Sam who could read him almost as well as O'Neill could.

"Nothing,” Carter said. She resumed CPR, this time unable to keep the tears from falling.

"O'Neill's heart and lungs once again work on their own. I believe it is wise to take him to Stargate Command, with your permission. I will return immediately with assistance for you and DanielJackson.”

Her heart thudded with relief at the news that the colonel was back with them. The relief switched too soon to anticipatory grief as her hope for Daniel began to fade with each compression. “Go. See ya soon,” she said as she pumped away on Daniel's chest.

In seconds, Teal'c had Jack out of his tac vest and across his shoulders in a firefighter carry. “I'll be back.”

Carter snorted a laugh at the dead-on impersonation of Schwarznegger delivering one of the oft-used _Terminator_ lines. And she loved him for knowing what she needed at that moment. It was a skill he'd learned from O'Neill.

Then he and their leader were gone and it was just she and Daniel. She gave him a breath.

She rapidly buried any thought she had of stopping CPR once she became too exhausted to continue. Instead, she thought of a battered Jack O'Neill crawling through a desert for nine days, of him crawling just a short time ago to this platform in off-the-chart agony, of Daniel pushing himself to exhaustion to translate something that might save them, of Teal'c at top speed carrying O'Neill to the 'gate.

Suddenly, she didn't feel tired at all and she knew she'd last as long as Daniel needed her to give him second-hand life.

HHHH

Teal'c was not feeling kindly toward the Ancients for several reasons, and the foremost reason at the moment was the path to the Chappa'ai. Instead of a straight shot, which would've taken him all of five minutes to run even with O'Neill draped across his shoulders, the wide, paved path meandered, sometimes sharply, through what was once enchanting gardens. The gardens were beautiful still in a wild way, but were so overgrown and thick with undergrowth that any effort to go through them would have been impossible no matter what the mode of ground transportation was. It was nearly 15 minutes before the Jaffa reached the DHD.

Not willing to waste any time in returning to the SGC, Teal'c kept O'Neill just where he was. He took two huge breaths and pressed lightly on O'Neill's carotid artery. He closed his eyes for a moment in relief when he felt a strong, slow pulse.

He keyed his radio. “MajorCarter, this is Teal'c. It is unnecessary for you to respond. I have arrived at the dial-home device. Be assured O'Neill's heart beats. I will dial Earth in moments and shall return with others to assist you as soon as possible. Out.”

As he pressed the glyphs, he wondered if they had made the correct decision to leave the major alone to resuscitate Daniel Jackson. By the time he punched the point of origin, though, he knew he had done what was necessary. There was no guarantee O'Neill's heart and lungs would continue to function on their own. Major Carter was strong and most determined when it came to treating her teammates and friends. She would stop only if she herself quit breathing.

He would be back long before that could happen.

The watery substance kawooshed and settled into a stable event horizon. His fingers entered his personal IDC, then stabbed the emergency button. He counted to three, checked O'Neill's pulse one more time, and ran up the stone steps and through the Chappa'ai.

HHHH

Carter's eyes filled with more tears on hearing the colonel was holding his own. That news, plus Teal'c's confident tone and promise of help and the knowledge that none of them would ever give up on her or Daniel, re-energized her.

She stopped to assess Daniel. Still no breath, no heartbeat. Lifting both eyelids, she saw that the sclerae were now blue and the color seemed to be gathering around the pupils, which weren't dilated or unequal, to her great relief.

She resumed CPR, banished the passage of time from her senses, and centered herself in a task she was honored to do. She'd kick herself about her lack of military demeanor later.

HHHH

Sergeant Hal St. John, the 'gate tech on duty, announced, “Unscheduled off-world activation,” as soon as the 'gate clunked to life. Several moments later, the Security Forces began piling into the embarkation room and the officer on duty, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Anthony, joined St. John in the control room.

"What ya got, Hal?” Anthony asked, groggy from having been awakened so abruptly from his snooze. He glanced at the chronometer: 0307 local time.

There was a brief silence while they waited, then: “It's SG-1, sir. Teal'c. And he's hit the emergency button!”

Anthony shook his head. Not good news with Teal'c sending the IDC; it was usually Doc Jackson or Major Carter. “Open the iris and call the infirmary. Tell 'em we need a team stat.” He grabbed the microphone that transmitted to the 'gate room. “Heads up, fellas. Unknown emergency comin' through. Only thing for sure is it's Teal'c.”

At that moment, Teal'c emerged from the wormhole. Without stopping, he declared, “O'Neill and DanielJackson have suffered the cessation of heart and lung functions but to my knowledge only O'Neill now sustains his own life.” He stopped at the foot of the ramp and gently laid his friend on the cold steel. Two SFs rushed to help him. Anthony left the control room to join them.

As they situated the unconscious O'Neill into recovery position, Teal'c continued to speak. “You must redial PQ4-55X as soon as the Chappa'ai closes. I and others must return to assist MajorCarter.” He opened Jack's right eyelid and was rewarded with seeing white again.

"Not so fast,” said Anthony. “Tell me what happened first, okay? Are you hurt?” It was a reasonable question as the substance darkening one side of Teal'c's uniform was blood.

Teal'c's jaw muscles frantically contracted and his fists clenched tightly. Rather than argue with the human or perpetrate a mutiny, Teal'c replied, “An unknown event involving the likely transfer of DanielJackson's mind into the body of O'Neill transpired. It would appear that has been reversed. However, DanielJackson remains in cardiopulmonary arrest. I am uninjured. I must return _now_.”

By then Amanda Brightman, the latest addition to the SGC's medical staff and a night owl quite happy to be on third shift, had entered the embarkation room along with several nurses and a stretcher. Brightman jogged to the ramp and began assessing her new patient. “Do what he says, Colonel. Teal'c, take the AED and the drug bag.” The nurse holding those items handed them to the Jaffa. “You remember how to use it?”

Teal'c nodded. He tensed when he heard the 'gate shut down.

Anthony first shot Brightman a warning look, then Teal'c. He shrugged in resignation. Besides, he'd want someone to do the same for anyone on his team. “You heard 'em, Hal. Dial it up.”

Teal'c bowed his head in thanks. He watched as the nurses placed O'Neill on a cardiac monitor and on a backboard as prelude to moving him to the stretcher.

"Dr. Boyle, who's been approved for off-world travel, will join you as soon as he's ready, along with a couple of nurses and a FRED,” said Brightman as she studied O'Neill's rhythm. “Tell me what you can about what happened to the colonel before he arrested.”

Teal'c, watching the inner ring of the Chappa'ai spin as if his doing so could make it go faster, relayed what he knew. He finished as the seventh chevron locked. “I know you and your team will take excellent care of my friend, Doctor Brightman.” After touching O'Neill's shoulder, Teal'c nodded briskly at the physician and raced up the ramp and through the glimmering pool of plasma.

Brightman turned to one of the nurses. “Jerry, you'll be the primary on this one. Let's get the rhabdomyolysis protocol started but three IVs instead of two, a skull series, and a suture set ready to go.”

HHHH

Carter was still doing compressions when Teal'c arrived. Without saying a word, the Jaffa opened the case holding the automated external defibrillator and readied the machine for use. He touched Carter's drenched back and for the first time really looked at Daniel.

Jackson was alabaster white, with blue lines on the outer curves of his lips. His head rolled back and forth like a bobblehead toy with each compression. The front of his shirt was damp, though it was from Carter's sweat.

When Carter didn't stop, Teal'c said quietly, “The device is ready for use.”

Carter couldn't stop. She had convinced herself that if she did, Daniel would be lost - and it couldn't be her fault.

Calmly, Teal'c took her by both arms. He moved her far enough away from their teammate that she would be safe from any shock. Not surprisingly, she maintained her CPR position. She had done it for so long it was as if she were a sculpture.

Next, Teal'c ripped open Daniel's shirts. He positioned the pads and activated the defibrillator.

Miraculously, Daniel had a rhythm that could be treated. The machine eventually gave him three shocks over a couple of extraordinarily long minutes. After the third, it told them to check the patient as there was no longer a shockable rhythm.

Carter paled and gulped. She held her breath while Teal'c checked for pulses. After several decades - or so it seemed to her - Teal'c looked at her.

And grinned.

Her cramping, sore body shook with sobs of joy. To get a pulse after so long without one was nothing short of a miracle. Now she began to worry about the condition of his brain. Certainly he would have significant damage.

She couldn't think about about that. Instead, she asked Teal'c, “Is he breathing?”

"Yes, though each breath is shallow.”

"Can you start the IV? I don't think I can handle it right now.”

"Indeed.” He had already started digging the necessary supplies from the drug bag. As he assembled the pieces, he thought of the wisdom of their team leader, who had insisted some years ago that he, Daniel, and Teal'c learn how to use the AED, perform CPR, and start IVs in case Carter needed those interventions or she wasn't available. _You have saved DanielJackson's life this day by your foresight, O'Neill._

With the crisis under control, the adrenaline shut off in Carter, leaving her a quivering, exhausted, sweaty mess. She curled up on her side to face her two friends. She didn't last long enough to see Teal'c confidently poke a needle in the crease of Daniel's elbow.

HHHH

Brightman and her team had O'Neill settled in record time. They pumped him full of normal saline, lactated ringer's and IV dextrose solutions and hooked him up to all kinds of monitors, including a continuous electroencephalogram. The eyebrow laceration was cleaned and stitched, the broken nose x-rayed, set, protected, and iced. They inserted an arterial line and set up a schedule for blood work.

And they readied the space for Dr. Jackson, right next to Colonel O'Neill.

Throughout this entire time, there had been no response from O'Neill. And Brightman was completely flummoxed by the bizarre waveforms she read on the EEG. She took a moment to notify the neurologist on call that he was needed ASAP. Shortly after that, the horns sounded and were immediately followed by the announcement of an unscheduled off-world activation.

A stressed and perspiring Teal'c entered the infirmary ahead of the team caring for Doctor Jackson. He carried Major Carter in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, arms around his neck. A nurse escorted the two to a bed opposite O'Neill's. Brightman joined them and performed a hurried assessment of the major. When Teal'c informed her that Carter had done CPR for more than 30 minutes straight, Brightman's biggest concern became the swollen, bruised heels of her hands and what would be very sore muscles when she woke. The doctor ordered ice packs and elevation, along with an IV for hydration.

Within a quarter-hour, Daniel Jackson was next to Jack, intubated and on a ventilator and hooked up to his own monitors. His EEG tracing was not unexpected; waveforms were barely discernable.

Brightman decided to call in General Hammond and Janet Fraiser early. They'd want to be here when Daniel Jackson was officially declared brain dead.

HHHH

Air Force Colonel Anson Markham, M.D. and Board-certified neurologist, was stumped but intrigued.

Dr. Jackson's EEG indicated very little electrical activity in his brain. Yet his brain stem reflexes were strong. His spontaneous breaths were good enough that they had extubated him. The CT scan showed extensive damage but the MRI revealed a normal brain.

As for Colonel O'Neill's EEG tracings, they looked like nothing he'd ever seen. And the man's CT and MRI scans were totally unreadable. It was as if his brain was blocking any intrusion from the machines.

So Markham canceled all his appointments for the near future and, with the SGC medical staff and Teal'c, waited and watched.

HHHH

Janet Fraiser was vaguely positive she'd seen brain waves like the colonel's before; she just couldn't place when and in whom. By midnight, she remembered.

Once in the solitude of her office, she opened the locked cabinet that held encrypted CDs of SGC personnel health information - information considered too classified to risk being on a network server or on paper. She woke up her computer and keyed in her username and password, inserted the CD she's selected, and typed in yet another username and password.

She chose one of Colonel O'Neill's files - the EEG readings from when he had the knowledge of the Ancients in his head. And there it was: though not identical, there was now no doubt in her mind that the electrical activity he was having now was close enough to be considered Ancient.

Stunned and slumping in her chair, she realized that they had lost him. It was only a matter of time before his body followed.

She jerked when an insistent knock on her door filled the office. Markham, not waiting for permission, stuck his head in and said with great excitement, “Colonel O'Neill's having short runs of beta and theta waves!”

Fraiser gulped in disbelief. _How can this be? Is his brain concentrating on repressing something? Maybe I'm wrong and it's not Ancient influence ..._ Hurriedly, she ejected the disc, refiled it, and locked the cabinet. She ran to join her colleagues.

HHHH

Twenty-four hours after Daniel Jackson's mind found its way into Jack O'Neill, Jack started his climb to consciousness. He heard lots of beeping and hushed voices. He felt itchy beneath the electrodes on his head and chest. And a burning ache all over his body. And more.

Including being alone in his head, pretty much back to its usual quiet and simple existence. Kinda like Tetris, it seemed to him. No more experiencing that incredible, leaping, complex mind of Daniel Jackson first-hand. Though he had hated it when Daniel suffered. That was the hardest thing in the whole ordeal.

 _Daniel?_ As if he were suddenly telepathic. And as if Daniel could hear him.

Then he'd fade for some unknown length of time. Each time he rose, everything he heard and felt, especially that damn penlight, became a little more intense, a little closer.

He finally opened his eyes to slit width at the urging of Fraiser's voice. “Doc?” he whispered.

"Colonel, it's good to hear your voice. How are you?” Her haggard face managed to show her joy at his arousal.

As if she couldn't figure out he had the mother of all headaches, a profound loathing of light, and a mouth inhabited by filthy cobwebs, along with a way-too-generous smattering of general aches and pains. “Daniel?”

The delight left her face. Telling him Daniel's prognosis wasn't going to be easy. But he'd hound her until she did. She looked down and away from him. “Not good, sir. He's in a coma and probably has severe brain damage.” She sighed and leaned in closer. “He's dying, Jack,” she said softly.

There it was - the truth without any sugar coating, just the way he liked it, even demanded it.

At the same moment Jack thought he had failed Daniel, he was grabbed by a powerful urge to touch him. “ _No!_ Push me to him. _Now_.”

Janet stood straight, the authority in his tone leaving no question it was an order that she sure as hell better follow.

Teal'c, who had been standing at the foot of O'Neill's bed, moved before Janet could. In his heart, the Jaffa knew O'Neill would be the key to bringing Daniel Jackson the rest of the way back to them. O'Neill simply hadn't been able to finish whatever he had started in the room of Truth. He had the side rails down and the beds shoved together, leaving Fraiser and one of the nurses to try to keep up with moving some of the equipment.

The commotion awakened Carter, who had been sleeping most of the time since she'd crashed on the planet. Bleary-eyed, she pushed the button to raise the head of her bed to better see what was going on.

"Daniel,” Jack whispered as he looked at the pale, lax face. He stretched his arm out but couldn't quite reach the archeologist. “T?” he said without taking his eyes off Daniel.

Teal'c helped O'Neill move to the edge of the mattress. The Jaffa stepped away, deciding to play it safe and not touch O'Neill when he touched Jackson.

Jack reached out, this time able to touch Daniel's head. He ripped away a number of the electrodes, frowning when he say a couple of them had more than a few of Daniel's hairs still attached to them. He stroked Daniel's head, careful to avoid the latest lump the archeologist had acquired, a few times before letting his hand come to a rest. He said, “Danny, I'm sorry about all this. I should've stopped us from even going in there.” He closed his eyes and wished with every molecule of his being that Daniel's brain would return to its normal, irritating, genius self. Soon, he felt the oddest thing.

An extremely pleasurable warmth flowed all over him, then his hand became icy and hot at the same time. He could see Daniel's starved, damaged neurons barely firing. He felt that icy heat leave him and _heard_ it bathe Daniel's brain and seep into all its nooks and crannies. Suddenly, he experienced a flood of brightness that smelled, tasted, and colored like lemon that lasted only a heartbeat. He passed out and his hand slipped off Daniel's head.

During this entire time, Markham was glued to watching O'Neill's EEG readouts. Silently, he bid Fraiser join him in doing so herself. They saw every channel awash in those unidentifiable waveforms. They increased in speed and amplitude, then changed to beta and theta waves at the same time O'Neill returned to unconsciousness. A minute or so later, there were only delta waves.

Markham turned to Fraiser. “What the hell did we see and what did it mean?”

Janet shrugged. “Hell if I know, Anson.”

HHHH

Once again, O'Neill was unresponsive - not a peep out of him for over an hour. Janet now doubted that whatever had happened and was currently happening in his brain was related to the Ancient download. If it were, he never would have awakened after what he'd been through, much less speak in English. And since he woke up once, chances were good he'd do it again. But she couldn't be sure one way or another. This was all so ... alien.

Daniel Jackson was another story. Nothing seemed to have changed since Jack talked to touched him. Not even the positioning of their beds. Teal'c had forbidden anyone to separate them. No one, including General Hammond, was about to cross the determined warrior on this matter.

Janet pulled her eyes away from Jack and Daniel and their monitors to look at Sam. She was working too hard to maintain her military composure, so much so that she had dark circles beneath her eyes and her lower lip was chapped and swollen from her near-constant gnawing of it even in her sleep.

Fraiser sighed and wallowed in her helplessness, wracking her brain to come up with something to do over and above simply supporting Jack and Daniel's lives.

Markham's throat-clearing caught her attention. “Look at this, Janet.” He pointed to Daniel's EEG tracings.

Every channel showed increasing activity and a variety of waveforms. Daniel's brain had gone from almost no electrical activity for nearly 48 hours to a growing riot of waves. Minutes later, all channels showed delta waves.

That's when Janet saw some rapid eye movement beneath Daniel's closed lids. His skin color started to return to normal. His breathing got deeper.

Daniel was coming back to them. How or why, she had no idea.

Sam's voice broke into the physician's thoughts. “Janet, is he waking up?”

HHHH

It was so dark and confusing. He was so befuddled, he didn't know time or space or self. He, without substance, wandered and circled in murky brownness, locked inside something and nothing.

Then something changed. He felt a wondrously pleasant shock of warm energy swaddle him, orient him, invigorate him with the scent of lemon, and put him on the road to substance and self.

He was becoming himself again. Whole. Alive.

His first awareness of other was, “Janet, is he waking up?” The familiar voice of a friend he loved so much. “Sam.”

He wasn't sure if he spoke or thought it. Until another familiar voice, another friend he loved very much, whispered in his ear. “That's right, Daniel. Good to have you back with us.”

He smiled weakly, sensed that Jack and Teal'c were nearby, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

HHHH

The next time Daniel awoke, it was to Sam's voice again.

"... electromagnetic fields. Maybe somehow that device disrupted their EM fields in such a way that Daniel's consciousness entered Colonel O'Neill. The colonel seemed to know that he had to touch Daniel to finish returning them both back to normal.”

"I don't know, Sam,” he heard Janet say. “That doesn't fit. If their EM fields had been disrupted, there would've been some interference with the equipment.”

"What about the MRI scans?”

In the time it took Sam to ask that question, Daniel had the answer. He licked his dry lips and muttered, “Zatarc.”

"Daniel!” Sam and Janet exclaimed in delighted unison. A moment later, there was a spoon at his lips. “Ice,” Janet said.

Gratefully, he opened his mouth and accepted the chips. They melted in seconds. He sighed and repeated, “Zatarc.”

Sam got what he was trying to say. “But, Daniel, that thing didn't even come close to a looking like a zatarc detector, much less acting like one.”

He nodded once. “ _Like_ a detector. In a room called 'truth.' Must've been part of their justice system.”

"Of course!” said Carter. “So, the Ancient device allows the actual sharing of consciousness to determine truth rather than reading the subconscious and comparing it to the conscious memory like the zatarc detector does.” She paused. “Wow. Sounds very dangerous.”

The conversation suddenly had Daniel vaguely remembering something bizarre, but nothing specific. “Jack? I was inside Jack?” he asked, though there was an element of statement in the question.

"Yes, Daniel, we believe so. And he's doing okay,” said Janet as she squeezed his hand. “He suffered a lot of muscle strain that caused some breakdown but it's not life-threatening.” She didn't tell him he hadn't regained consciousness since just before Daniel came to the first time.

Daniel slid back to sleep with that reassurance and to the cool, soft touch of Sam's hand holding his.

HHHH

One day later, Daniel was discharged from the infirmary. He spent most of the next three days near Jack, which was how long it took O'Neill to wake up. Daniel began pestering Jack with questions about his side of their shared experience as soon as Jack was awake enough to be coherent, until Jack shot him a glare. “Not much to tell, Daniel. The old memory's pretty much Swiss cheese, only with more holes than cheese,” he lied. Somewhat mollified, Daniel dropped his probe and started filling Jack in on the hypotheses everyone had put forth.

Jack listened with one ear, pleased with Daniel's enthusiasm and apparent lack of memory. He couldn't bear Daniel knowing how Daniel had battered him and intruded on some of his darkest memories. How Jack's failure to fight whatever it was that kept him from speaking and aborting the mission and compelled him to continue had nearly cost them their lives.

One more day went by and Jack's IVs and feeding tube were out and he was discharged as well, with an appointment to join his team in the commissary as soon as he'd finish with Doc Fraiser.

So he knocked on her office door and opened it when he heard her say, “Come on in.”

"What's up, Doc? What do we have to talk about in private?”

Fraiser sighed. “Have a seat, Colonel. I have a few questions.”

O'Neill cocked an eyebrow and lowered himself in the chair opposite his favorite physician.

"Colonel, I'll get right to the point. Do you still have the Ancient download in there somewhere?” She tapped her own head a few times.

O'Neill's eyes widened. “What? NO!” He wrestled into submission the fear that popped up and was churning around in his gut. “I mean, no way. The Asgard took it out.” He paused. “Didn't they?”

"I don't know for certain, sir. The reason I'm asking is because there was a time there when your brain waves looked an awful lot like the waves you had when you had the download. But this time you didn't speak Ancient and you didn't die. It's possible the knowledge is still there. Actually, I think it's likely, because I don't think knowledge can be removed, even with the most advanced technology. At best, it can be ... blocked.”

"But, Doc, we are talking about the _Asgard_. We can't even _imagine_ their technology.” Now Jack was feeling sick. And betrayed. “They wouldn't lie to me. To _us_. We're _allies_ , for cryin' out loud.”

"We weren't allies when you met them. Maybe they put in a block and told you the knowledge was gone to protect you.”

"Or they were afraid I would use it against them. How could they know if I was a peaceful human?”

"Exactly.”

"So, what happened in that building?”

"I don't know, sir. If I'm right and the repository is still there, maybe something about the building knocked a hole in the block and let a little bit of that knowledge through. From what Teal'c and Sam have told me, you knew what to do _and_ you were acting a bit off even before entering the building.” Fraiser paused to let that sink in before she dropped her next bombshell. “That's not all, sir. I think you played a major role in healing Daniel, and it wasn't just your EM fields finally returning to normal.”

Jack stared at her as the pit of his stomach clenched into a hard ball. The download had to be gone. There must be some other explanation, some other reason for the freaky brain waves and Daniel getting better. If the download was still there, then he was fish food for the great white shark called NID.

Hell, if the repository was still there, then he was way closer to death-by-hostile-Ancient-takeover than he cared to be. Even worse, then he should give up command of SG-1 rather than risk their lives.

"Doc, what are the chances that something like this will happen again?”

Janet shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine, sir. I just don't have enough information, though I suspect it was a fluke. In my opinion, you probably are in no more danger one way or the other. Now that this has happened, you'll recognize it should it happen again and be prepared to handle it.”

O'Neill smiled to himself; she had known that he was really asking about the safety of his team. An increased risk was there, but so minuscule that it was buried by his contribution of keeping Carter, Teal'c, and Daniel together, focused, and alive. He stood, decision made, posture full of confidence. “As far as this matter is concerned, the Asgard told me the truth. Thanks for your input, Doc, but seems to me to be pretty much speculation. This will remain between the two of us and unofficial.” His stony expression masked his fear that she wouldn't agree and that he'd become Colonel Guinea Pig, doomed to be stuck in a lab on Earth for the rest of his unnatural life and not out there ensuring his teammates continued to save the planet.

Fraiser wasn't surprised. The colonel was protecting himself and his team, whether he believed he still had the download or not. And she would protect him as well, starting by “losing” his EEG tracings from earlier this week, even though it violated ethical and legal standards. She'd live with it somehow. Try to remember that her ethical duty to protect him and the rest of SG-1 was more important than ethics and law in this case and in the whole scheme of things.

"Yes, sir.”

the end  
copyright 2011


End file.
